


Battles of wit

by MsAstronaut



Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: Chess, I just loved the series, i know nothing about chess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsAstronaut/pseuds/MsAstronaut
Summary: Mexico City, Paris, Moscow - they played three times.Just a Vasily & Beth drabble of how their perception of each other shifted with each game.
Relationships: Beth Harmon & Vasily Borgov
Comments: 7
Kudos: 138





	Battles of wit

**Mexico City**

The first time they played, Beth had fear coursing through her veins.

Looking back, Beth should've known she'd loose the moment she saw his first game. The more she studied his moves, the more her fear grew.

She never faced anyone like Borgov. He crushed her. Made her feel weak, small. He brought down her defenses, both on the board and the ones in her mind. And he did so with a bored look on his face. He was smart - smarter than her. His moves were so obvious, yet so refined. Less imaginative, but she supposed he didn't need it. 

He was a computer, a machine, in a human's clothing.

**Paris**

The second time, it was alcohol and drugs.

Beth believed that even if she were sober, he would still crush her. Benny never agreed with her, when they talked about that. Which led to arguments, harsh words and tough emotions. So they didn't talk about it often. She put up a fight, she was better than she was in Mexico, but it wasn't enough. Even with her throat burning from thirst and her eyes clouding, she knew that he would win, no matter how much she tried. Beth allowed a single tear to slide down her cheek as she resigned. She couldn't look into his eyes. She was a mess, and he was not. Beth was overflowing with emotions, last night's events still not having left her body. And Borgov?

Borgov was a statue. Composed, rigid. Emotionless. 

**Moscow**

The third time, it was determination.

She was sober. It wasn't fear coursing through her veins anymore, just the anticipation and the thrill of the game. She wasn't walking into her own execution, like the previous two times, no. She was walking into a battle of worthy opponents. A battle of minds, of wits and imagination. 

Beth looked Borgov and, perhaps for the first time ever, really saw him. Without fear or her vices clouding her mind, she finally saw the crease of his brow when she made a move - worry, the small glint in his eye - thrill and the smile on his face when she won - pride.

Borgov was human. 

And during the moment they shared after Beth checkmated him, with the thrill and the pride and the happiness and the relief buzzing in between them... well, Borgov might have just been the one person on the planet that understood her the best.

\---

**Mexico City**

The first time they played, he looked bored.

She wasn't a threat. She wasn't a challenge. He went over her previous games beforehand, not to actually prepare for their match, but out of curiosity. Her achievements were noteworthy, especially considering the circumstances of her childhood. But when they shook hands before the match, she did not resemble the brutal player the press heralded her as.

She was just a scared little girl.

**Paris**

The second time they played, he looked disappointed.

Beth played her previous games with a talent that made him look forward to their match. He was excited and, if he was being honest, unsure whether he would win. But the chess player that greeted him was not the same chess player he saw crushing down her opponents.

The Americans, he was told, do not support each other. Beth did not have the former world champions as her mentors and advisors, did not have a spouse and a child to come back home to - he didn't know if he even had friends. Borgov couldn't help but feel pity for her. 

But most of all, he felt disappointed. He secretly hoped that she would've beat him. Being the best meant that there was no one at his level. There was no challenge to overcome, no mind sharp enough to compete against his. He sighed.

She was just another martyr of genius.

**Moscow**

The third time they played, he looked scared.

And after that, he looked proud.

This time, it was Borgov that studied her games. He went through her moves, watched her board, discussed her strategies. He heard Luchenko's comment about her being the best. But, looking back, he already knew that, even without the former world champion confirming it. Beth finally became the opponent he always secretly hoped she'd be. He finally felt the thrill of a challenge.

He called for an adjournment. He needed to process everything. The game, his moves, his emotions. The reality of what was coming. 

This match was her game. Chess was her game.

She was the best player in the world.

And the moment she trapped his king, he couldn't have felt prouder. He had no part in her accomplishment, he knew that. But after years of being the best, there was finally someone better than him. Someone who now understood what it meant to be the best. Someone who would understand him.

**Author's Note:**

> First TQG fic! I hope I captured the emotions well!


End file.
